The Ties That Bind
by Miri1984
Summary: Purely speculative Anders childhood story - from birth to when he enters the Tower. Set in the Losses/Consequences/Of Wardens and Mages universe.
1. Prologue

The labour was long and arduous, but it was her first, so the midwife wasn't surprised. The mother was a young woman who she had not seen before. This pegged them as transients - as she knew every woman within a six mile radius of Highever, most of them professionally.

She seemed able to cope with the pain better than most first time mothers. Each time a contraction came, she concentrated and breathed deeply, seeming to look within and find strength, rather than let it out in cries of agony. The midwife didn't judge those who did choose to use their voices - but it she had to admit it was pleasant not to have the onslaught on her ears this time.

The husband - he was young but well-to-do - seemed as nervous as all new fathers, standing next to his wife's shoulder, squeezing her hand anxiously. He was a tall man - dark haired and dark eyed - possibly with some Riviani blood in him. His wife was dark haired as well, so it was somewhat surprising when the babe finally slithered into the arms of the midwife, to see pale skin and a head topped with pale blond strands.

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing as she deftly cut the cord, the husband helping the woman to the bed from the birthing stool. She placed the infant, unwashed and squalling, on the woman's chest, knowing from experience it was best to get the child and mother into contact as soon as possible. They never complained of the blood and mess. They wanted their children straight away - and sometimes - heart wrenchingly - it would be the only chance they had to hold them.

Not in this case, however. The babe was healthy and fat - no sign of being either early or late. His wails were lusty and his fists waved strongly in the air like little maces.

"A fighter, mistress," the midwife said, grinning at the picture. "He's strong and healthy. Should be nursing in no time."

The mother smiled up at her, eyes shining. "Thank you," she said.

She stayed for a few more hours, helping with the afterbirth, cleaning up the rooms and assisting the mother with nursing, before taking her leave, promising to come back in the morning.

"Ah, we won't be needing you, good woman," the husband said, handing her a pouch of coin. "I thank you for your help at such short notice, but we must be on our way when light comes."

"Ser - I don't want to interfere, but really your wife shouldn't be traveling so soon after the birth - there was some tearing..."

"You don't need to worry," he said, smiling secretively. "She heals fast. We'll be on our way in the morning."

The midwife shrugged. She figured the wife would sort him out soon enough, when he suggested they leave. No woman felt much like walking or traveling the day after giving birth for the first time. She would call again in the morning in any case.

"And... ah... there's a little extra in the pouch," he continued. "We'd appreciate it if you didn't mention you helped us. Or met us - should anyone come asking."

Again, she raised an eyebrow. It wasn't the first time she'd been asked to keep a birth secret, either, but she hadn't pegged this couple for criminals, or adulterers. There had been no one on hand to take the babe away, either. Curious.

Still, it didn't pay to be nosy, and when she checked the pouch of coin outside the inn, she realised they'd paid enough to keep her silent forever. A poor woman, but honest, she resolved to give some of the coin - not all of it - back when she returned the next day.

However, true to their word, when she returned to the inn the following morning, all three of them were gone.


	2. Chapter 1

"He's a hungry little one," Joscelyn said. She was magnificent and glowing, sitting next to him in the driving seat of the wagon. Still thick around the middle, although she assured him that would pass, but otherwise back to how she had been when he first met her, eight months ago. The baby - Anders she said she wanted to call him, although he didn't know why - was nursing. He'd been nursing or sleeping for the past day.

"Are you sure you're all right to travel?" he asked. He was somewhat astonished at her ability to recuperate, even though he knew about her special circumstances. Not that he'd ever seen a woman give birth before, but he truly hadn't expected it to take that long.

"Felix, I'm fine. We had to move in any case - they would have felt me in Highever."

He frowned. "I'm glad we finished trading then," he said. "Will they come after us?"

"They won't know which direction to go in," she said, with a satisfied smile. "We're safe as long as we're on the move. And luckily," she gave him a brilliant smile, "we're always on the move."

He took her free hand and squeezed it. He was amazed, sometimes, that a woman like her would choose to be his wife. She had not needed to marry him, even pregnant with another man's child she seemed perfectly capable of looking after herself, selling potions and poultices to villages as she traveled around the country. They had traveled together for convenience, after meeting in Lothering and talking over dinner in the inn. He discovered she was a healer - she discovered he traded arms and armour and any other trinkets he could barter for. He had a wagon, she had an old gelding who had seen better days. He offered to let her accompany him when he found out she was pregnant and stuck in Lothering until she could acquire a wagon of her own.

For four months they traveled together, and he found himself falling in love with everything about her. She could be quiet and thoughtful, or merry and loquacious depending on the patient she was attending. With him, she was guarded at first, until they had a discussion about magic and he let her know his true feelings about the Circle. Then she started to open up more and he discovered the kindness and good humour she showed to those patients who needed it was closest to her true personality. She had little bad to say about anyone or anything, which was refreshing next to his usually dour outlook and cynicism. She chided him gently when he was sarcastic or critical, but often he saw her eyes twinkle with laughter.

He had expected her to turn him down, but she had fixed him with her gaze and kissed him thoroughly when he asked her to be his wife.

They merged their businesses. They were doing very well for themselves - people always needed healing, always needed a merchant, and people had assumed the child was his.

That could be a problem now, of course. The babe looked nothing like either of them - his pale hair and indeterminate eyes (Joscelyn assured him they would settle on a colour later) could have marked him as someone else's entirely.

She never told him who the father was. He didn't ask.

They were heading for Denerim, with a stop in Amaranthine on the way, but they were taking back roads. He had been dubious, the first time she insisted on back roads, worried about bandits, wild animals...

Until they'd met some. He had some skill with a bow, but he'd barely had to reach for it. Now he wasn't worried _at all._

His father would have scoffed at him, relying on a woman to defend them. But he had inherited his practicality from his mother's side of the family. If his father had ever had to face the snarling jaws of a wolf leaping for his throat he probably would have changed his mind.

By Amaranthine she looked just like she had when he'd first seen her in Lothering. Tall, slender and willowy. Anders was constantly strapped to her chest in a complicated wrap that kept him secure and allowed him to nurse - it was almost as though he was still tucked up tight in her womb. She didn't let him slow her down, administering poultices and doctoring to the villages they stopped at on the way with all of her usual vigour.

They stayed at the Crown and Lion in Amaranthine - the innkeeper knew them well and showed them to their usual room. Felix sighed and sank into a chair as she busied herself with setting up the room - a crib for Anders, the top of a dresser converted for changing him.

"You seem to know everything there is to know about looking after a baby," he said, watching her. He'd been bewildered and awed the first time he'd held the child, terrified he'd break him or make him hate him somehow. Anders had simply looked up at him with wide solemn eyes for a few moments before closing them and falling asleep. Obviously _he _had no trouble with being a baby, the look had seem to say. Why should Felix?

"I'm the eldest of six, remember," she said, smiling at him.

"I choose to believe you are just intrinsically perfect," he said.

"That is your job, my love," she said, settling Anders into his crib. She made her way over to him and settled in his lap. "Do you want children? Of your own?"

"With you, absolutely," he said.

"Even though they'll possibly... "

"Be like you? Especially because of that."

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "It's going to be difficult," she said. "Teaching him not to give himself away. It was very difficult for me."

"How did your parents manage?"

"My parents never knew," she said. "I was taught by someone else."

He sat up a little straighter at that, interested. "Who?" he asked.

"There was a circle mage - he lived on a farm outside our village," she frowned. "He was in the circle for more than thirty years before they finally let him out. He told me that no matter how dangerous we were, we deserved the chance to prove ourselves _before _we were locked up."

"The Rivaini have no circle."

"Perhaps we should move there."

He smiled. "It's a rough place, my love," he said. "But we can go there, if you like. Raising little Anders and any other additions... it will be hard, but not in the same way." He considered for a moment. He had spent only a few years of his young life in his mother's homeland, but there were some memories of it that made the idea of returning less than palatable. "Of course there's always the chance that we're found by Qun converts. I have no wish to see you leashed."

She shuddered. "No, there are some places worse than Ferelden for mages," she said. "And I love it here. Since King Maric freed us from the Orlesians, it has been a happy place. And we can do so much good."

"And make so much coin!" he added, grinning. "The way Ferelden nobles spend money - you'd think they'd never seen it before."

"They'll calm down soon enough," she said. "It's the giddyness of freedom. Actually being able to spend your own money, rather than hand it over to Orlesians? Very good for business. I'd give it two more years before you'll need to drop your prices."

He rubbed his hands together in mock glee. There was a cry from the crib and he moved to let her up, but she shook her head and snuggled against him. "Give him a moment, he might settle down."

He stroked her hair and listened to the small snuffles and cries from the crib for a few minutes. Sure enough, he settled down again. "Not hungry," she said, lightly poking him in the ribs. "Not wet. Just grumpy. We should sleep - it's our first time in a proper bed for weeks."

"Sleep only?" he said.

She smiled ruefully. "For another few weeks, I'm afraid," she said. "Even with my healing magic, there are some things that should not be attempted."

"Ah well," he said. "I suppose I can wait. And sleep will be nice."

She pulled him to his feet and kissed him, thoroughly. He held her gently, thinking how lucky he was to have found her.


	3. Chapter 2

Mama told him never to go too far from the wagon when they were resting. Never let Magda out of your sight, she said. Make sure you can hear us. He was very careful, ever since the day he'd found the snake and been bitten. Mama had healed him, but she'd been very scared, and it had hurt very much, so now he never went far.

This time he heard the bird before he saw it. It was making a funny noise - one he hadn't heard before, so he wasn't sure it even _was _a bird until he moved the grass aside to find it.

Something had bitten it, he thought. There was a lot of blood. The bird was still alive, though. It fixed him with one black eye, breath heaving in and out of its little body as it tried to chirp. He could feel how much it must hurt, and his eyes filled with tears. Maybe Mama could fix it?

He scooped the bird up in his hands, not caring that they were now covered in blood. When he touched the bird, he felt something tingling in his hands and pressing behind his eyes, but he thought it was just because he was excited. He ran back towards Magda and the cart. Mama and Papa were sitting around the fire, cooking something that smelled lovely. He was hungry, but the bird was hurt, and Mama might be able to fix it.

Mama looked up when she heard him coming and smiled. "What is it, Anders?" she said. He held out the bird mutely and her eyes widened. She was holding Maeve in her arms, but she passed the baby to Papa when she saw what Anders was holding.

"Can you fix it, Mama?"

"Fix it, darling?"

"Make it better. Like you made me better when the snake bit me."

She looked at Papa, and seemed sad. "I don't know," she said. "He looks pretty hurt, darling."

Anders blinked up at her, tears welling behind his eyes. "But will it die?"

She touched his face with a long fingered hand. "Everything dies eventually, sweet one."

"No!"

She gently took the bird from his fingers. "Let me see," she said. The bird chirped again, a little more strongly this time, and Anders held his breath, holding both his hands in front of him tightly. "Well, Anders," she said, smiling at him. "I can heal him."

"Joscelyn..." Papa said.

"It's all right Felix," she said. "We're miles from anywhere, no one will notice."

Mama concentrated for a moment, and Anders saw the blue light he wasn't allowed to talk about spill from her hands and surround the bird. For a few seconds, nothing happened, then the bird hopped up and flew away, chirping loudly. Anders clapped his hands and laughed with glee as he watched the bird disappear over the trees. "Can I learn how to do that, Mama?" he said.

"Maybe," she said. Papa was frowning, though, and Mama held out her hands and motioned for him to come to her, so he did. She tutted over the blood on his hands and reached for a cloth and some water to wash them with. "You know, though, Anders, that you can't tell anyone about me fixing things?"

He nodded. "Yes, Mama," he said. She had told him that the first time he saw the blue light, although he couldn't remember exactly when that was. A long, long time ago. More than a week, at least.

"And you know, that if you ever make the blue light you have to come and tell me? Straight away?"

"Yes, Mama."

"You didn't make the blue light when you saw the bird, did you?"

He shook his head.

She hugged him and stroked his short blond hair. "You're a good boy, Anders," she said softly. He shut his eyes and snuggled closer to her, smelling Mama smell and smiling. It was nice to be cuddled by Mama. Since Maeve was born it didn't happen as much, and he missed it. Papa said he was a big boy now, nearly five, and Maeve was only little, so she needed more cuddles than he did. But Maeve would get bigger and then there might be another little baby who needed cuddles. So he didn't mind that Maeve got cuddles now. It was just nice to get some of his own sometimes.

When he fell asleep in their tent that night he thought about finding the bird and the feeling he'd had in his head when he touched it. He thought... maybe.. that he _could _make the blue light if he tried _really _hard. But Mama said not to. So he wouldn't.

* * *

Ser Malcolm rode guard duty with Lady Cousland whenever she traveled. In this case she was visiting relatives in Gwaren. A long journey, especially away from her two children, but she assured Malcolm that Bryce enjoyed being sole carer for them while she was away.

"He spoils them rotten," she said. "It's good for all three of them. And Nan's there to step in if things get too unruly. I deserve a break every now and then!"

Malcolm knew that Lady Cousland was an attentive mother - she was an excellent Teryna as well, and he had no complaints about being under her service. They were on the North Road, about two weeks into their journey, when they came across the merchants. A Rivaini man and a Ferelden woman with two children - one blond and sunny, the other small and dark. She was pregnant again, he noticed, although her swelling belly didn't seem to stop her from handling the old cart horse with skill. The man jiggled the girl on his lap while the little boy - he must have been seven or eight, seemed intent on climbing on and off the wagon, running into the bushes by the side of the road to pick leaves and show them to his parents. They waved and smiled as the Cousland carriage approached - far more smooth and rapid than their own heavily ladened wagon. Lady Cousland stuck her head out of the carriage and asked that they stop, she knew the merchants and wanted to see what they had to trade.

Malcolm didn't recognise the pair, but Highever was well stocked and he rarely did any of the shopping for his small family, so that wasn't surprising. Traveling merchants tended to cater for the smaller villages and most didn't even travel the main roads. He guessed these were on their way into the Bannorn and using the North Road to make their trip a little easier, even if it was out of their way. With two young children and another on the way, traveling at all was risky and he wondered that they had no guards.

Lady Eleanor spent perhaps half an hour talking to the merchants before they were on their way again. She purchased several things from them, which intrigued Malcolm, considering the wide variety of merchants they had in Highever.

When she next rode (the lady preferred to ride horseback rather than in the carriage, and only did so to keep her lady in waiting company) she moved Gwydion, her black stallion, up next to his horse.

"I'm surprised the merchants had anything to offer you that you could not purchase in Highever, my lady," he said conversationally as they rode.

"Oh, Joscelyn's poultices and balms are far better than the ones you can get in Highever, Malcolm," she said. "I always make sure I buy from her when she's in town. I've been trying to convince her to start a shop with us, but she seems to prefer the road. Goodness knows why - with those children scampering around all the time."

"It does seem an odd life to choose, for a young mother."

Lady Cousland shrugged. "Perhaps she prefers the freedom of it," she said. "There was a time when I couldn't imagine settling in one place for long."

"But you were fighting in the rebellion," he said. "You _couldn't_ settle down anywhere."

"True," she said. "And I would never have met Bryce, had I stayed with my mother in Gwaren like the dutiful daughter.." her face clouded briefly, and he remembered that her mother had not survived the rebellion. Likely as not, if Eleanor had stayed with her she would have met the same fate.

They rode in silence for a few miles.

When the attack came, Malcolm was taken totally by surprise - or at least by as much surprise as a warrior of his experience could be taken. The first rain of arrows landed amongst the horses and he shouted for the teryna to take to the safety of the carriage - with its shutters closed it was their best defense against archers. He reined in Harker and called his men to form a shield wall around the teyrna's carriage, waiting for the onslaught that would no doubt follow once the archers realised they were not going to get lucky with a stray hit.

Twelve men, they were traveling with. A large enough force to beat back all but the most determined and well equipped of bandits.

Unfortunately these were both.

* * *

Anders could see there was something wrong, even from a long way away. He had run ahead from the wagon - it went so _slowly _that he often ran ahead, always careful to stay on the road, of course. The carriage was on its side, and there were people lying on the ground. He stood for a moment, shocked, before one of the people looked up and pointed at him.

Suddenly afraid (Mama told him never to talk to strangers unless she or Papa was with him) he raced back around the bend to their wagon, shouting excitedly.

"What is it, Anders?" Papa said from the back of the wagon, where he was playing blocks with Maeve.

"Papa the carriage we saw before, it's fallen over!"

Mama was driving the wagon and she held out her hand to help him up beside her. Papa jumped down with three year old Maeve in his arms and moved next to them. "Did you see anything else, Anders?" he said, suddenly serious.

"There were some people lying on the ground. One of them saw me and pointed."

"Did you see anyone fighting? Were there any men with swords or bows?"

"The men on the ground had swords and bows. But they weren't using them."

Papa nodded. "They must have been attacked," he said to Mama. Mama nodded, a troubled expression on her face.

"Bandits on the main road," she said. "That's serious."

"If they attacked the Teryna's soldiers I'll assume they're all dead by now."

She nodded. "Still, it seems odd they'd try for such a well defended target."

The wagon was rounding the bend so that Mama and Papa could see the carriage for themselves. "See Mama! There!"

"Yes darling," she said. "Can you drive the wagon for me, Anders? Just up to where the carriage is."

Anders beamed and took the reins from her as she climbed down, hurrying ahead to the carriage. Papa and Maeve walked next to him, more slowly. This was special - he was only allowed to drive the wagon sometimes, and usually only if Mama or Papa sat next to him with their hands on the reins. This time he was allowed to take the reins himself and he felt very important. He was careful not to make Magda go too fast, though, and made her stop just where Mama had told him, before Magda got too close to the people lying on the ground.

When they were close, however, Anders felt the familiar feeling in his tummy that meant some of the people were hurt. And badly. He swallowed. It was never nice being near people who were hurt. He hoped Mama could fix them.

The lady who had talked to them before was kneeling on the ground next to one of the men. She was very upset, Anders could tell. He jumped down from the wagon and helped Papa tether Magda so she wouldn't wander. Papa wanted him to look after Maeve while Mama talked to the lady, and Anders pouted - he wanted to see how badly the men were hurt. But Papa was very firm that he stay in the wagon with Maeve.

Luckily the wagon was close enough that he could hear what people were saying, even if he couldn't see them.

"He's been run through," the lady was saying. Her voice had that funny sound you got from trying not to cry - all tight and wound up. "There were just too many of them."

"You managed to run them off though?" Mama said.

"We killed all but four," the lady said - her voice getting firmer. "Those fled."

"The other men - they'll be fine with bandages and poultices... but I'm afraid your knight here..."

"You can't help him? I must confess I was hoping you could do something for him... Nan told me... "

He heard Mama take a sharp breath. Maeve was banging two blocks together loudly and it was difficult to hear what was said next. "Nan spoke to you?" he thought Mama said.

The lady said something in response that Anders couldn't hear.

"She would never have betrayed your confidence, my dear..." the lady was saying. What came next was lost as Maeve gave a loud wail for Papa.

"Shh, Maeve," Anders said. His little sister poked her tongue out at him. He poked his out back at her. This was an activity that made very little noise, and had the added advantage of stopping her from talking over what Mama and the lady was saying. Maeve giggled much more quietly than she talked.

"I can, my lady," Mama was saying.

"Joscelyn!" Papa said. "There are Templars on this road. Always. You cannot risk it."

"Sod the Templars," Mama said. Anders gasped. Mama never swore. "This man will die if I don't help him."

Mama was going to fix the man. Anders continued to make funny faces at Maeve, who was now giggling uncontrollably. He felt the familiar tingle that meant Mama was using the blue light and strained his senses to feel exactly what she was doing - he was certain now that he could make the light if he needed to, but Mama's warnings always rang in his head every time he was tempted to try. This time she needed to use _a lot _of the blue light. Much more than he'd ever felt before. The man must have been very, very sick.

Maeve was getting bored with the tongue poking game so he started to build blocks with her, still listening to see if Mama and the lady said anything else. But it was Papa who spoke first.

"We'll need to go," he said. "I'm sorry, my lady Cousland, but you must understand.. we cannot risk waiting..."

"My good man," the lady said. "I am Teryna of Highever. I can protect you from a few Templars. You don't need to worry."

"No, my lady," Mama said. "The Templars have complete authority in such matters. You would not be able to stop them."

"Do they have any way of telling who has performed certain spells?"

"I'm afraid they do, my lady," Mama said. "They would know I was behind this, should we remain with you."

"I am sorry," the lady said. "We shall make our way back to Highever then. Know that you'll always be welcome there. And please, take this..."

"My lady, we do not need for coin..."

"Then a gift, instead. Wear it and anyone associated with the Cousland name will know you carry my and my family's favour. You saved my men, and we owe you a great debt."

"Thank you my lady."

"Should you encounter any Templars.." Papa said.

"We will direct them away from you, good man," the lady said.

By the time Papa and Mama got back to the wagon Maeve was getting restless again. Papa calmed her by picking her up and playing the eyes game, which set her off giggling again. Mama looked tired and she reached into one of the crates of potions they carried and pulled out one of the blue potions that Anders was never, ever, ever allowed to touch and drank it. Anders could feel it did something to her that made her less tired and he realised the man must have been hurt really, really badly. Mama hadn't been that tired since just after Maeve was born.

"The turn off to the Bannorn is only a few hours away," Papa was saying. "Hopefully we'll be off the main road before we run into anyone else."

Mama nodded, then settled in the back of the wagon amidst the cushions and blankets that were their living room when they were on the move. Papa settled Maeve next to her - she was sleepy and content now - and hopped up to the driving seat.

Once the wagon was on its way again Anders crept up and sat next Mama on the other side.

"Mama, what are Templars?" he asked.

She looked down at him with one eyebrow raised. "My little boy has sharp ears," she said. "Were you listening to Mama talking to the lady?"

He nodded. "Are they monsters?"

She laughed. "No, darling. They're men. But they don't like it when people use the blue light."

"Why not?"

"Because they think people who use the blue light are dangerous and might hurt people."

"But you would never hurt anyone Mama! You fix people!"

"I know darling."

"Templars are stupid," he said forcefully. Mama laughed.

"No they're not, Anders. They just have a job to do. If you ever meet one, make sure you don't talk to him, though."

"And I should never use the blue light when they're near?"

Maeve had fallen asleep curled in Mama's lap and Mama looked hard at Anders. "Anders, have you made the blue light?"

He felt guilty, even though he hadn't. "No Mama," he said. She raised her eyebrow at him and he realised he needed to tell her more. "But I can feel it when you use it. And I can tell when people are sick."

"Ah," she said, nodding her head. "Well I'm proud of you for not using the blue light, sweetheart. But it's important that you tell me when you can feel it."

"Mama can you teach me to use it?"

She reached out and pulled him close to her. "You know it's dangerous, darling."

"Yes."

She squeezed him tight. "I'll teach you," she said.

He settled against her. If he could use the blue light, he could help Mama if she got sick. Or Papa. Or even... Maeve - if she asked _really nicely. _It would be good to be able to do that.

Templars must be very, very stupid if they thought the blue light was dangerous. Maybe one day he could find a Templar who was sick and fix him and maybe _then _he wouldn't think like that.


	4. Chapter 3

After that Mama gave him lessons every morning. She was very firm with him about what he was allowed to do and they never had lessons when they were staying in a town or a village - only on the road.

When Mama had the new baby, Anders stayed with her and helped her with some of his own blue light when he could feel she was hurting. The new baby was a boy, and Anders couldn't help but be happy about it - Maeve was fun sometimes, but it would be nice to have a boy around with them as well, even if he was eight years older than him.

He'd forgotten, of course, that babies didn't become little boys for a long time. He'd been very little when Maeve was born so couldn't remember - he'd thought that she came out talking and walking. When he found out that Jairo wouldn't be able to do either of those things for at least a year he was disappointed.

"Anders, you've _seen _babies," Mama said, laughing. "And how did you expect me to carry him around in my tummy if he was that big?"

He blushed. He hadn't really thought about it, he supposed.

Papa and Mama made him look after Maeve a bit more, once the new baby arrived. He didn't mind so much. Maeve could be a lot of fun now that she'd started to talk properly. They spent a lot of time playing chase. He tried to get her to play wardens and darkspawn, but she was too little to understand, and Papa scolded him when he caught Anders trying to explain to Maeve what a darkspawn was.

"You'll frighten her, Anders," he said.

He didn't say that was the point - you were supposed to be frightened of the darkspawn. But he supposed he shouldn't have told her that they were supposed to sometimes burst out of the ground without warning. She'd been scared to get off the wagon for a while after he told her that story.

Now he just chased her and pretended she was a darkspawn without telling her.

They were on their way to Denerim. Anders couldn't remember the last time they'd been there, although Papa said he'd been nearly three. When they got there he thought he might have remembered some of it, but it was so crowded and smelly and hot (it was the middle of summer) that even if he had remembered it he probably would have tried to forget it.

They stayed at an inn near the Alienage. Mama did a lot of work in the alienages whenever they visited the city. She said not many healers bothered to try to help the elves and it wasn't fair. Papa had arms and armour from Orzammar to trade with the market district traders. Anders knew they sold their things for much more money than Papa did and he always thought it was unfair, but Papa would smile at him. "I charge them more than the merchants at Orzammar charged me, Anders," he said. "It's fair, in its own way."

"But it's the same stuff!" Anders had objected. "Why would people pay more for it just because it's in a different place?"

Papa laughed. "How long did it take us to get here from Orzammar, Anders?" he asked.

"Huh," Anders said. "A very long time." It had felt like _years._

"That's why people pay more here," Papa said. "They don't want to make the journey - they don't have _time _to make the journey. So they pay us to do it for them!"

"But the merchants in the city don't do the traveling," Anders said. "Why do _they _get to charge more than you?"

"Now that, my boy, is advanced economics, and something we can discuss when you're a bit older."

"But Papa..."

"I will explain, Anders," he said. "But I really have to get going, I have to meet some of those merchants today. And aren't you going to the alienage with Mama?"

He'd almost forgotten. Maeve and he would get to play with the elven children if they went to the alienage, and that was always fun. The elves always had better games than the humans. Humans always wanted to play with _toys. _Toys were, in Anders' opinion, _boring. _It was much more fun to play with whatever you found lying around in the grass. Or on the street. And there were always good things lying around in the alienages...

* * *

"We're not allowed to climb it," Vivian said, crossing her arms sternly and glaring at Anders. He pouted.

"But it's such a good tree!" he said. "Why aren't you allowed to climb it?"

"Mamae says it's dangerous," Vivian said. She was a little older than Anders, with blonde hair and he thought she might even be pretty if she ever bothered to smile. But she hadn't yet. Her brother, Marcus, was much more fun, even if he was a year younger than Anders. The fun had been stopped, though, when Vivian found them both halfway up the enormous tree planted in the middle of the alienage.

"Pff," Anders said. "Dangerous for you, maybe! Are you too delicate to climb a tree?"

"If you get Marcus hurt, Mamae won't let you play with us again."

"Awww, Viv!" Marcus wailed. "I've climbed it tons of times!"

"And I'm going to tell Mamae that, too. She'll keep you inside for a month!"

"You're a tattle tale!" Marcus shouted at her.

"You shouldn't be playing with a shem any way!"

Marcus drew in his breath in a gasp and Anders stopped what he was doing, sensing that something _very bad _had just been said, but not knowing exactly what it was. Vivian had gone a vivid shade of red, but her pointed chin was tipped up and her arms were folded even more tightly across her chest.

"This is _Josie's _son," Marcus said softly. "If Mamae found out you'd called him that, she wouldn't let you outside for a _year!"_

"I don't care _who's _son he is. He's still a _shem."_

Anders frowned and stepped back from the tree. "What's a shem?" he asked. He felt a soft hand on his shoulder and turned to see a tall man behind him.

"A shem, young man, is what some elves call humans," he said. "Unfortunately humans often call elves things that are much, _much _worse."

"You look like my Papa!" Anders blurted out, then felt himself go bright red. Luckily the man didn't seem to mind. He was about the same age as Papa, Anders thought, and he had the dark hair and skin that Papa had. Marcus and Vivian had run off as soon as the stranger arrived and Anders was suddenly aware he was alone with him - something his mother had always warned him against.

"Do I?" the man said. "Well, that's interesting. Did I hear the little man here say you were Josie's son?"

"Joscelyn the healer is my Mama, yes ser. Who are you? I shouldn't be talking to strangers without Mama near."

"No, you shouldn't," the man said, although Anders noticed that he didn't answer the question. "Is your mother nearby? I've actually come to find her."

"She's tending Shianni's Mamae," Anders said. When he noticed the man's blank look, he pointed to one of the alienage huts. "She was hurt really badly by a human man. Mama is trying to fix her."

The man's expression darkened. "I see. I shall wait for her out here then."

"I can go and tell her you're looking for her if you like," Anders said, edging towards the hut. The man shook his head.

"I think you should stay outside as well, young man," he said. "If your mother is working, she won't want to be disturbed."

Anders shrugged and ran off to find Marcus and Vivian. Maybe Vivian would be less grumpy if he suggested they play near the bridge instead of climbing the tree.

* * *

When Mama came to find him later she looked tired and he thought she might have had to use the blue light again. She was with the man who looked like Papa, talking to him as she waved him over, with Jairo strapped to her in the sling and Maeve tugging at her skirts.

"I'm afraid not, Commander," she was saying. "I'm happy to do whatever I can for your people whenever I'm in Denerim, but what you ask... with a young family?"

"I understand," he said. "And to be honest it wasn't the main reason I came to find you. I wanted to let you know that... should your family show any signs, we would be happy to take them in."

Mama hugged Anders when he got to her and her face was grim. "I'm not sure if I should be glad or not that you offered," she said. "From what I've heard, it's a short, brutal life. I don't want that for my children."

"But if it's a choice between that or the circle..."

She sighed. "I'll think about it, Commander," she said. "But you'll excuse me if I don't rush to you straight away. You're not going to invoke the right of conscription, are you?"

He laughed. "No, Joscelyn. We are not so pressed for recruits that I would sunder your family. I prefer willing ones any way. But I would like you to know it's an option."

"It's good to know that, at least," she said. "Now, you said you had wounded at the warden compound?"

"Just some training accidents," the man said. "But if you could stop by I would appreciate it. All our healers are out patrolling at present and going to some of the Denerim doctors is tantamount to telling everyone in the city our secrets."

"I'll drop by later this afternoon," she said. "When Felix can take care of the children."

"How fared your charge here?"

Mama looked even more grim. "She'll live," she said. "But I wish I didn't have to attend the same problems every time I'm here. It's not right!"

The man sighed. "There is much wrong in the capital at present," he said. "But there are worse places in Thedas. For elves and humans alike."

"You have Maric's ear, don't you Commander? Surely you can help these people!"

"I assure you, Joscelyn, King Maric is more sympathetic to the plight of the elves than most people believe. But it's far harder to change minds than it is to change things."

Mama shrugged. "Well, Commander," she said. "I shall see you later this afternoon."

The man bowed with his arms crossed over his chest. Anders, who had been practically bursting with curiosity through the whole conversation, finally erupted with questions.

"Who was he Mama? Why did you call him Commander? What did he want us to do? Where are you going this afternoon?"

Mama laughed and ruffled his hair as they started walking back towards the inn. "Anders, slow down. I only have one mouth to answer you with."

"Who was he?"

"That was Duncan, Anders. He's the Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden."

"You _know_ Duncan? You know a Grey Warden? Why didn't you tell me Mama?"

"Well, _know _is too strong a word, darling. I have healed some of his men in the past. They get injured quite a bit, Grey Wardens."

"Do they have _griffons_ mama? Can I come with you to see?"

She laughed as he peppered her with questions all the way back to the inn. Maeve was wide eyed and silent as they walked, as enraptured as Anders, but Mama didn't have much to add, aside from the fact that no, the Grey Wardens didn't have griffons any more and _no _Anders couldn't go with her to the Grey Warden compound that afternoon.

It was only once he was back at the inn with Papa that he remembered Vivian had called him a shem. He would have to ask Papa later what it meant.


	5. Chapter 4

When he was ten Mama and Papa took a shop in Highever. He was confused at first. He didn't know why they were staying in the same spot all the time instead of traveling. He missed the wagon. He missed Magda the cart horse (she had died in the spring while they were stopped at Amaranthine - Papa had said it was a sign).

But then he started to get used to it. The house was small for a house, but enormous by Anders' standards. He and Jairo and Maeve had a room of their own - they had their own beds and little chests to keep toys (or in Anders' case, books).

They still traveled out of the city every now and then, but they didn't go very far. The furthest was to Amaranthine, which was only a week away.

The shop was at the front of the house. Father didn't sell armour any more. Instead he sold the poultices and salves that Mama made, and some jewelry that he still traded for. Anders sometimes kept the shop while Mama and Papa did other things, but mostly he studied and played with the other children.

There were lots of children in Highever. Anders had known a few of them, but none of them very well. They'd played with them whenever they were in town, but they were treated differently when they were there as merchants - just another person to fill in the game of football or chasey or wardens and darkspawn. Anders never really talked to them, just ran around with them. Now he actually had friends who he sought out to play with... or get into trouble with as Papa said.

When they'd been in Highever for a year, Anders had almost forgotten what it was like to travel on the roads. Part of him felt sad sometimes, when he thought of all the places he'd been, but part of him was happy as well. He had friends now - it was easier to look after Maeve and Jairo and Mama and Papa didn't mind if he wandered around the town.

When he was eleven, though, he was almost captured by Templars.

* * *

Mathus was a bully. He liked to tease Jairo because he was small. He would tease Maeve because she was a girl and he'd tease Anders for being a bastard. He'd tease the other kids for everything he could think of - for being short, or being fat, or being skinny. Anders often wondered why it always had to be something _physically _wrong that prompted Mathus' ire - there were a few kids in Highever who were - Anders privately thought - as dumb as posts, but Mathus never teased them for that. Perhaps, he thought eventually, it was because Mathus didn't realise they were stupid, being too stupid himself.

Papa laughed when Anders told him his theory and patted him on the shoulder. "You're absolutely right, Anders," he said. "Stupidity loves company as well, my boy. Stay away from this Mathus, and let me know if he bothers you or your brother and sister."

Anders knew Papa wasn't his real father - Mama had told him ages and ages ago, but Mama and Papa were married so in Anders' books that meant it didn't matter. But Mathus thought it was fun to point out Anders blonde hair and how different he looked from Maeve and Jairo and make everyone else point and look as well.

He really didn't care, although from the looks he got he assumed he was supposed to. The fact that he never got angry about it seemed to drive Mathus more crazy than anything, though. And as time wore on he started doing more than just pointing and jeering.

If Anders went out on his own, he nearly always ran into the bigger boy. Mathus tried a lot to goad Anders in to attacking him, but Anders didn't rise to it - he knew he would only get into trouble if he fought, and he also knew that Mathus would beat him soundly. He would be lying if he said he'd never gotten into a fight before, but he knew his limitations and preferred being labelled a coward to bleeding.

Blood was never nice.

Finally, one day when Anders was running an errand for Papa, he turned a corner into a fist.

Suddenly he was on the ground and somewhat surprised to be. He looked up and was considerably less so to see the reason for it.

"What is your _problem_ Mathus?" Anders said.

"You're a bastard, posh pants," Mathus said. _Posh pants, _Anders thought. _There's an insult worthy of a bard. _

Anders also noticed that Mathus' pants were significantly more posh than his. Mathus' father was a merchant, just like Papa, but he made significantly more money than Anders' family. No one knew exactly how.

"Does that mean you can hit me?" he said, sitting up and rubbing his nose. There was blood coming out of it. He had to resist the temptation to heal it.

"I can hit whoever I want," Mathus said.

"Oh really?" Anders said. "Why don't you go into the Chantry and hit the Revered Mother then?"

Mathus shifted from foot to foot, eyes narrowing. "Don't want to hit her," he said finally.

Anders clambered to his feet, only to have Mathus' hit him again and set him back on his behind.

"Mathus, _quit it!" _Anders shouted. "You're not going to get me to fight you!"

"I guess you just get to keep getting hit then," Mathus said, bunching his fists up and coming at Anders at a run.

He managed to roll over and avoid the first rush, but Mathus for all his size was quick and before Anders knew it the bigger boy was on top of him, pounding his face and body with fists. He tried to shield himself with his arms, but it was little use - he just ended up with bruised arms. They were in a deserted alleyway. He hoped someone would come by and find them, but he knew somehow, that Mathus had with uncanny intelligence, picked the only place on his route where this was unlikely in the extreme.

He lay there for a while, getting more and more battered, wondering exactly how he was going to explain this to Papa and feeling stupidly guilty that he wasn't going to get to deliver Papa's message to the castle... then he began to be aware of something building inside him.

He knew it was magic. He knew he wasn't allowed to use magic. He didn't think he could control it. Every time one of Mathus' fists connected with him he felt it build higher. He tried to roll up into a ball, tried to clench down on it, even tried fighting back with his fists, but the knot in his gut that was his magic kept growing and growing and he could make no headway against Mathus and it _hurt _so much every time he was hit...

There was an explosion of light. Mathus was blown away from him. He felt hot - there was fire. He screamed.

There was silence. He rolled onto his front, terrified of what had happened, and looked up.

Mathus was lying against the wall of the alley. There were scorch marks on his shirt.

"Andraste's... knickers..." Anders said through bruised lips. He crawled to Mathus, feeling with his healing sense exactly how badly he was hurt.

It was bad.

The panic that took hold of Anders then was almost paralyzing. If Mathus died, they'd know it was from magic. If Mathus lived, they'd know it was from magic. The choice was easy, but it would have to be quick or he wouldn't have time to get away.

He lurched to his feet, hurting everywhere Mathus had hit him, and stumbled over to the prone boy, calling on his power for the first time without worrying about keeping it secret. There was no way, if there were any Templars around, they hadn't felt that.

He directed it at himself after he'd healed Mathus. Then he ran.


	6. Chapter 5

He burst into the shop shouting for Mama. He was lucky - both Mama and Father were there, which wasn't usual.

"What is it Anders?" Father said. There were no customers - again lucky. Why couldn't he have been lucky in the alley?

"I had to use magic, Father," he said. The words started pouring out if him in a rush. Mama and Father looked at each other, their expressions grim.

"It's all right, Anders," Mama said. "I want you to go to your room, now, and pack up your pack with some things. We're going up to the castle."

"Mathus will be awake any minute, Mama," Anders said, wringing his hands.

"Anders. _Go. _We'll take care of this."

He ran into his room and did as Mama asked. He could hear Mama and Father talking rapidly to each other in the shop, but they weren't speaking loudly enough for him to hear. His heart was racing faster than it had ever done before and his hands were shaking so much that it was difficult to get his pack closed. He checked to make sure all his magic books were secure in the secret compartment next to his bed (they had arranged that as soon as they moved in) then ran back out into the shop.

"We still have her token," his mother was saying. "She'll protect us. I know it. It's why we moved here, remember?"

"I hope so," Father said. "Thank the maker you haven't been out today. How are you going to get to the castle without being seen?"

"We have our ways," she said, smiling a little now. "Look after Maeve and Jairo. We may be a few days."

Anders stood with his pack on his back and his cloak in his hand. Mama looked down at him, smiling, but he could see the worry in her eyes.

"We're going to have to move quickly, darling," she said. "And I'm going to have to use some magic. Not much, but I want you to keep an eye out for Templars. Keep your hood up. Did any of the other children see you this morning?"

He shook his head. He had left very early to deliver his message, which was another reason running into Mathus had been such a surprise.

Mama gave Father a quick kiss. Father embraced her, then Anders fiercely. "Be careful," he said. Mama nodded and ushered Anders out through the door.

Mama cast a spell that Anders didn't recognise. He was a little shocked - until this morning he'd not even properly realised that magic could be used for things other than healing. Mama had hinted at it - and he knew that whenever they were attacked on the road, Mama had done something to stop them from getting hurt, but she had never taught him anything like that and he had put away as something only Mama could do.

He remembered the feeling of letting go he'd had when Mathus was hurt, and shuddered. It had felt _so good..._

They hurried through the streets. It was still early, but they were busy with people carrying goods and setting up shops and moving livestock - everyday people preparing for their day. There were no idle wanderers - not yet, but he knew Mama and he were cutting it fine. An hour more, maybe less, and the rest of Highever's population would be out on the streets.

"Mama!" he said, spotting a familiar purple skirt. She nodded and he felt the spell dissipate. She pulled her hood over her head, as did Anders, and they increased their pace.

They were making for the castle. Anders was surprised, he would have thought they would be leaving the town, but Mama seemed to know what she was doing and he felt too lost to object or ask why.

When they reached the castle, they were stopped at the gates by a guard. Mama reached into her dress and brought out an amulet she always wore around her neck and showed it to him. The guard's eyes widened, then he clicked his heels together and waved her in, shouting some instructions as they went.

Very soon after, Anders found himself in the biggest room he'd ever seen. It was draped in expensive tapestries, with thick, rich carpets strewn on the stone floors. Portraits of stern people were hung along the walls and a large chair sat at the top of the room, raised up on steps.

It seemed a bit criminal that there was so much empty space. Anders, used to living in a wagon or a single room, imagined how many of the elves from the alienage would be able to sleep there. He guessed probably all of them.

There were two men in the room, as well as several guards. One of the men was lounging in the chair, one leg hooked over the arm as he talked to the other, who was tall and imposing and very obviously armed. Anders felt some of the tension leak out of Mama when she saw the second man. He wondered why.

The man on the chair looked up as they entered and waved them over.

Mama dropped a curtsey and approached. "My lord Cousland," she said. "Ser Malcolm."

"Maker's breath!" the tall man said. "I recognise you..."

"My Lord, I'm here on urgent business. Could you possibly dismiss your guards for a moment, or could we go somewhere to talk privately?"

The man in the chair frowned and looked like he was about to object, but Ser Malcolm leant down and whispered in his ear urgently. The lord's eyes widened and he got to his feet. "Certainly madam," he said. "Come with me."

He led them into a small room off from the bigger one - with a desk and some chairs. Rich carpet lined the floor and there were more portraits on the walls, but the expressions on these faces were more friendly and the room felt a lot less... imposing.

Malcolm didn't follow and they were left alone with Teryn Cousland.

"Joscelyn," he said. "My wife told me of your encounter with her, and what she promised you. Nan has always praised you."

"Nan is a good friend," Mama said. "I'm afraid I must ask you a desperate favour, my lord."

"Yes?"

"My son... is like me. He has the talent - stronger than I've ever felt it. And this morning he was forced to use it in the town."

"Forced?"

Mama told the Teryn the story. He looked grim, but when she told him what he had done to cure Mathus, his eyes shone and he looked down at Anders, a smile on his lips.

"Well, my boy, you showed a lot more nobility and compassion with that one act than I would expect Mathus or his father to display in their entire lives."

"You know Mathus?" Anders blurted. "... my lord...?" he stammered out the last when his mother gave him a stern look.

The Teryn looked like he'd bitten into a lemon. "Yes. Unfortunately. We have our eyes on his father. Let's just say we think he's not entirely the merchant he appears to be. But we have a problem, here, do we not, young Anders? If the templars felt your magic - and from what your mother says there is no way they would not have - then they will be looking for you."

Anders nodded.

"I thought if perhaps he could stay here for a few days? With me? My husband will tell the Templars we left town yesterday evening - perhaps your men could confirm it? Even if Mathus tells them what happened - all he has for evidence is some singed clothing. The whole town knows how much the boy hates Anders. If he's hidden for a few days maybe it will die down...?"

The Teryn looked thoughtful. "You're probably right," he said. "But I know the Templars in this town. Once this _has _blown over, they will watch you and your family more closely than ever. You'll be in constant danger from them."

Mama's shoulders slumped.

Teryn Cousland gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry too much, madam. My wife and I will work on them to dismiss that suspicion. And as far as Mathus and his father are concerned... well it's possible he won't be in the city for much longer, at least, not legitimately in any case."

"Smugglers?" Mama said, raising her eyebrow.

"We believe so," the Teryn said. She nodded as though she was not surprised. "I am sorry my wife and children are away at the moment," the Teryn continued, "otherwise you would have someone to play with, Anders. Fergus is a few years older than you, and Miranda a few younger, but they would love to have a new face around the castle."

Anders had seen the Teryn's children sometimes, from a distance, and thought they looked like decent enough sorts, but he was too nervous at the moment to regret not having playmates during their stay. Mama gave the Teryn another deep curtsey.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am," she said. "I know it is presumptuous of me to ask for help.. especially considering the Chantry..."

Teryn Cousland waved an arm, dismissing whatever Mama was about to say. "Some members of the Chantry find it easier to assume people are evil rather than good, my dear woman," he said. "We are faithful, in this household, but I believe people should be allowed to live in freedom. Nan and my wife both give me their word that you are a trustworthy woman - a good person. I prefer to believe them over some zealots who would like you to be locked up. And your boy... " the Teryn smiled down at Anders. "It seems he's inherited your desire to heal. He can do more good outside the circle than in."

Mama put her arm around Anders' shoulders and let out a deep sigh. The Teryn showed them out of the room and to a guard, who was asked to give them quarters in the castle. Anders wasn't sure how, but it seemed for now he was safe.


	7. Chapter 6

The castle was interesting at first. Teryn Cousland had told them they should stay in the west wing, and avoid talking to anyone but the servants that were sent to attend them. There was a lot of traffic between Highever and Castle Cousland and he didn't want them to risk having someone report that they were staying there. He also hinted that Mathus and his father wouldn't be a problem for much longer, and Mama told Anders she thought the Teryn might have enough evidence to convict Mathus' father of smuggling.

"Does that mean he'll be thrown in jail, Mama?" Anders asked her. She was brushing his hair one morning in the bathroom (a whole room - next to the one they slept in - just for a bath!) and they were talking about when they'd be able to go back to Papa.

Mama's face turned grim in the mirror as she tied the blond strands back from his face. "From what I've heard it's more likely they'll hang him," she said. "There have been some deaths involved."

"He _killed _people?"

She nodded. "Or had them killed, which amounts to the same thing as far as punishment is concerned. The Teryn is very protective of his people."

"I know," Anders said. "Why is he helping us?"

"Because I helped his wife once," she said. "And because Nan is my friend. And because he is a good man who doesn't think we should be locked up for something we can't help."

"Is the Tower really that bad, Mama?"

She got up and moved to the bedroom, and he followed. "From what I know, it's a quiet place, where the mages study and help each other develop their magic."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

Mama laughed. "You could never be quiet enough for them, my darling," she said, sitting on the bed. "And although that sounds lovely in its own way... Anders they _never let you out. _You're in the Tower all the time. There are Templars in every room watching you to make sure you don't do something wrong or become evil or..." she shook his head.

"How do you know, Mama?" he asked. "You've never been there, have you?"

She shook her head. "No, my love," she said. "But I know... I knew someone... some _people_ who were."

Anders thought for a moment about it. He _liked _studying. He knew he was good at it. When Mama and Papa had taught him to read it had been like a new world had opened up for him. But he also liked running around the city - he liked exploring the countryside. He liked getting caught in the rain sometimes, or making snowmen or better still pelting girls with snowballs. He liked looking at the people in the streets as they went about their business.

"Are mages allowed to have families Mama?" Anders asked.

She shook her head. "No."

"I'm glad you're not in the Tower," he said.

"So am I. And we'll keep you out of the tower too, Anders. Don't worry."

He worried. How could he not worry? And he worried about Jairo and Maeve as well, even though they _still _weren't sure about them. Mama said just because they hadn't shown any signs yet didn't mean they wouldn't - she hadn't been able to use magic until she was ten.

Two days later the Teryn came to see them. "Well," he said. "It looks like you'll be all right to leave the castle in a couple of days. We managed to catch Mathus' father's last shipment. He's in custody, and Mathus and his mother are leaving Highever. The Templars are without a witness, and they were suspicious of Mathus in any case."

Anders felt the tension drain out of Mama. She missed Jairo and Maeve, he knew. He did too. And Papa.

The Teryn smiled at them both. "I'll urge you to be careful, however," he said. "What I said before is still relevant. The Templars won't simply ignore you."

"They never do," Mama said. "But we can deal with them."

Two days later they were back at home. Anders was happy to be back with Maeve and Jairo and Papa, but he was nervous about going out to play with the other children. Although none of them truly _liked _Mathus, some of them had hung around with him, and he was frightened that while the adults didn't believe his story, the children might.

They didn't care. Mathus had teased everyone, even the children who hung around him. Not having him there was like having a weight lifted from the group. Although there were still boys and girls who were nasty none of them were as bad as he had been.

Anders tried to find out where he had gone but none of the children seemed to know. Some of them suggested they'd taken ship for Orlais. He found he didn't care enough to pursue it.

Papa and Mama argued about whether they should stay in Highever at all. Mama said if they left the Templars would be even more suspicious. Papa said they were safer on the move. In the end it was the Teryn who convinced them to stay, promising that they still had his protection.

A year passed. Then two.

* * *

"You don't have to _swim,_" Anders said. "Just come down to the water with me."

"Mother says not to," Tia was being remarkably stubborn today. He wondered if that mother of hers had warned her off Anders. It would be typical of the woman. The smith's wife was shrewish and spouted Chantry nonsense at every opportunity, despite her rather reasonable and jovial husband. Anders didn't understand how the two of them could have produced Tia. Slender, milk pale skin and waves of auburn hair, the older boys had all started trying to gain her favour. Usually she was quite happy to go off with Anders and do things.. although she wouldn't let him kiss her. Anders was working on that one.

At fourteen he'd shot up to be almost as tall as his father and he had enjoyed the company of several of the Highever girls in the last season. He'd been surprised at first - girls had always been... well, aliens. Some of them were as much fun to play with as the boys, but most of them were boring and some of them were downright mean. But this season he'd actually been approached by a few of the older girls and suddenly he realised they were.. curvier and had nice, soft hair and other things that kept him awake at night.

The older boys whispered to him about ways to... encourage their company and although he had never done anything quite as graphic as what Thomas at the grocer's store described to him one sunny afternoon (Anders had gone home in a _very _thoughtful mood that day and Father had given him a funny look) he had spent a very instructional afternoon behind the Peacock and Grouse's stables with Portia the Baker's daughter. She'd been all giggly around him for _weeks. _

But now Portia (who was sixteen) was betrothed and not allowed to mix with the rest of the children (at least not in _that _way) so Anders had directed his attentions to Tia, who was younger than Portia and Anders and, rumour had it, going to be betrothed very soon. Tia's father had eyed Anders up and obviously dismissed him for that role the first time they'd met, although a few of the other parents had been looking at him with a more than critical eye lately. It made him nervous. Only_ old _people got married.

Now Tia was telling him she wasn't going to go _anywhere _with him any more.

"Why not?" he asked, leaning against the wall of her house and giving her his most charming grin. He knew it was working, because she blushed and looked down.

"I've seen you with Beatrice," she said. _Ah. _"And Rose." _Oh. _"If you want me to go _anywhere _with you again, you'll have to stop seeing them."

_At least she didn't see me with Fiona... _he thought. But he stood up and dusted his hands on his shirt, mind racing through his repertoire for a story that would convince her of his... well if not his _innocence, _at least his intention of possibly being so in the future. "You don't understand.. Tia..." he started, but was interrupted by the figure of his little sister flying towards him. At nine years old she was starting to look more and more like Father, although she had Mama's eyes and the disconcerting habit of knowing exactly what to say in any given situation to embarrass her brother.

"Anders, Anders, Anders!" she barreled into him at top speed, nearly knocking him over.

"Easy, Maeve," he said, throwing a pained smile in Tia's direction.. but the redhead was already moving off. Anders frowned down at his sister. "It better be good, sis."

She shook her head, looking serious. "Mama's back. Father sent me to find you."

Mama wasn't due back for another week - she'd gone to collect herbs and visit a few of the outlying villages and farms. If she was back, something was wrong. Maeve was tugging on his hand, pulling him towards the shop and he allowed himself to be led, wondering what could have happened, if they would need to leave again or if...

_Just get home and ask her already! _He increased his pace to match Maeve's and they were home soon after.

Mama was sitting in their kitchen, on the big chair - the one that everyone fought over when she wasn't home. She looked tired and Anders knew, even before he was fully in the room, that she was _sick._ Father was sitting next to her on the arm of the chair, his fingers in her hair. She had leant her head on his shoulder and her eyes were closed, but Anders _knew_ she was hurting with his special sense and it was a hurt he'd never felt before in anyone.

She looked up when she heard them enter and caught his eyes with hers. _She knows, _he thought. In that one moment he felt like she had told him everything - _she's been hiding it for months. Why didn't I pay more attention? When did it start? _

_I can heal her. _He had his hands out in front of him before he could finish the thought but Mama leapt up and crossed the room in one stride, grasping his hands firmly. "No," she said. "Not here."

His power dissipated - he was so used to following her commands when it came to his magic that it felt like she'd dispelled it herself.

"We need to get out of the town," he said. "Now."

She brushed his hair from his forehead. "Anders, you can't do this."

_"I can."_

"I've tried, darling. I'm sorry."

"I'm stronger than you," he said, realising as he said it that it was true, and frightening for both of them. "You need to let me."

Papa was standing behind Mama then, his face a study in worry. He put his hands on Mama's shoulders and squeezed. "Joscelyn," he said. "Why not let him try?"

"I know this illness, Felix," she said, turning to Father, although she still held Anders' hands in hers. "I've tried to heal it before. It... it always comes back. Anders will just exhaust himself if he tries."

Papa cupped her chin in his hands. "Please?" he said softly. "For all of us?"

Mama's fingers tightened on his, although she was still looking at Papa. Jairo was clinging to Papa's trousers, his big dark eyes wide and fixed on his mother. Maeve was standing behind Anders in the doorway. He felt her small hand tug at his elbow. They didn't know what was going on. Not even Papa fully knew, Anders was certain.

"Mama?" he said softly. His mother let out a long sigh.

"I'll let him try," she said, then turned back to Anders. "But Anders, it will be me who tells you when to stop. You _have _to stop when I tell you to, do you understand?"

Anders nodded, hope burning in his chest.

"We'll help you get packed," Papa said then, and Anders could see the tension leaking out of his frame. Papa trusted him, he realised. It made him feel proud, but there was a tight kernel of fear in his belly that would not go away.

_I can heal her, _he said to himself. _I can._


	8. Chapter 7

They took the wagon. Mama seemed better now that they were out of the town than she had at home, but Anders knew she was still as sick as she had been before.

"What is it?" he asked her as they started on the North Road. "I've never felt anything like it before."

She put her hand on her breast, where Anders knew the sickness was coming from. "It's like a growth," she said. "I've seen it many times before. It can grow anywhere in the body - but it's worse if it grows in certain places, and once it grows in one place, it will try to find a way to grow somewhere else as well, even if you manage to get rid of the first one."

"You've healed it before?" he said.

"Only a few times," she said sadly. "It's very difficult, Anders. And the few times I've healed it - it's always come back. Somewhere different usually, but..."

He nodded, watching the road and the hindquarters of Dane, the gelding they'd bought to replace Magda. "What do I need to know?"

She explained what he needed to do. It would take a lot of power, he realised, more than he'd ever used before, even when he burnt Mathus. "Will you let me take Lyrium, Mama?" he asked.

She pressed her lips together in a hard line. It was a sore point with her - Lyrium. She rarely took the blue potions herself - only in extreme cases and in small doses. She said it made it easier for Templars to find them. The Chantry sold her lyrium dust to make into potions but she never made many - only as much to supply the odd mage traveler or warden who passed through Highever.

He knew, however, that there were lyrium potions in the wagon. She may not have liked it, but she was not so foolish as to travel without it, when they had no other protection from bandits and wild animals than her magic.

"Only if you absolutely need to, Anders," she said. "You have to be very careful with it, Anders. It... makes you feel funny unless you use the mana it gives you straight away. And if you take too much of it... you won't want to stop."

They traveled the rest of the afternoon to get to a small turn off that headed into the Bannorn, then camped. Anders wanted to try to heal her straight away, but Mama told him to wait a day. "The further we are away from Highever the better, Anders," she said.

The following day Anders spent a lot of the trip examining Mama while she drove, trying to learn as much as he could about the sickness embedded in her chest. It was like a sticky ball of mud, he thought, with smaller fingers reaching out into Mama's body, ready to make more of itself. The fingers were what worried him the most. He would have to get rid of them first, to make sure he didn't risk any of the sickness staying and starting to grow again.

"You said you've healed this before?" he said to her.

"The... sickness was much smaller in the people I healed, Anders," Mama said. He nodded grimly. He thought that might have been the case. This could take him more than just one night to heal, he thought. Possibly more than a week.

When they set up camp Anders paced around the fire, running through everything he would need to do. Mama cooked them a meal and watched him, her eyes unreadable in the dusk light. When they'd eaten they went into their tent. Mama would need to be asleep while he worked, or she would move around too much. She had taught him a sleep spell - something else he didn't know one could do with magic, and he kissed her forehead as he released it, filled with nervousness.

He gently let his healing sense sink into her and felt around the edges of the growth. Each finger had to be cut off and dissolved, individually. Some of them were very, very small and he knew that if he missed even one of them the sickness would grow again.

It was slow, and painstaking, and Anders didn't notice the flow of time until he was forced to stop and drink some of the lyrium his mother had given him. Half the night was gone, and he hadn't moved onto the main bulk of the sickness. He set his teeth, despite his growing exhaustion, and continued.

When he woke, the next morning, his head felt light and his stomach was growling with hunger. He'd fallen asleep after finishing the last of the fingers. He'd drunk two of the lyrium potions, but the dangerous tingling in his limbs after he'd finished the second and the press of exhaustion behind his eyes had forced him to stop a few hours before dawn.

Mama stirred next to him and he sat up quickly, trying to look like he'd had more sleep than he'd had, hastily pushing the empty lyrium vials out of her sight.

"Anders," she said, her dark eyes flickering open. He brushed her hair back from her forehead. She looked better than she had yesterday, but he didn't think it was because of his healing. He suspected she hadn't slept that long for many months. "You didn't get it all," she said then. He shook his head.

"But I will," he said. "We can stay camped for a few more days. I'll get it all, Mama, I promise."

She squeezed his hand but her eyes were still grim. "We'll stay for two more days," she said. "I don't want to risk any more than that."

Anders set his jaw and looked down. He didn't know if he could get it all in two more days, and he was worried. When he'd been working with it... it had felt _malignant. _It wanted to grow.

_Blessed Andraste, _he thought to himself. _Help me do this._

_

* * *

_

He'd watched the wagon leave the city, just as he'd watched it leave so many times before. This time, though, it was just the woman and the boy. The woman had only come back that day - it was strange that they'd be leaving again so soon. So he followed, using the stealth he'd learned from the docks. They didn't see him.

He watched them set up camp. Saw the haggard look in the woman's face, knew that something more was going on than just a trip to gather herbs. When they moved on the following day he was behind them. But not too close. Never too close.

That night he could see the blue light coming from their tent and he _knew, _just as he'd always known, what they were. They would have to listen to him.

This time he would be able to prove it.

* * *

The following two days were the most tiring of Anders' life. He hid it as best he could from his mother, because he knew she wouldn't let him continue if she had any idea of how much it was draining him, but he still fell asleep at odd moments during the day and his body sang with the blue hum of lyrium and power.

Mama didn't say much when she was awake, just looked at him with sad eyes. He knew she didn't think he could do it. He knew she wanted to tell him to stop, but he wouldn't give up.

_It always comes back_, she had said. That was in the back of his head while he worked, but he didn't let it deter him. He was getting better at it, snapping off parts of the growth and destroying them with more confidence and less fatigue.

It was on the afternoon of the second day the Templars came.

They were in the tent. Mama was asleep and he was working on her and he would have been able to hear them coming if he hadn't been concentrating _so hard..._

The hands grabbed him and pulled him away from her. They were gauntleted but at the first touch he felt _all _of his power leached from him and his eyes snapped open as his connection with Mama was severed. Her back arched and she cried out.

"He's killing her!" a voice said. "Filthy little apostate. Attacking his own mother. We should have listened to what that kid said earlier..."

Anders screamed as he was dragged out of the tent, his feet scrabbling on the dirt floor as he tried desperately to get back to her. "She's sick! You have to help her!"

A hand cuffed his head hard enough to make it ring. "Shut up, you little bastard. She'll be fine now you're not leeching off her."

The brightness of the afternoon sun made him clench his eyes shut, but he didn't stop struggling. "Let me go! I'm helping her!"

He could hear other voices, calling to each other, telling someone to gather up their things. "We'll take the mother back to Highever," one voice said. "I'm sure her husband will be glad to see her still alive."

"No, you _can't!" _Anders cried, struggling more and more violently until the person holding him cuffed him even harder, sending him into blackness.

* * *

When he woke up he was slung across the back of a horse behind a man dressed in Templar armour. His hands were bound in front of him in shackles that sparkled with enchantment - they were draining his mana constantly. He struggled a little, but he was tightly bound to the saddle and there was no way he could wriggle free.

"Awake, are you?" a voice came from beside him. There was another Templar, also on a horse. "About time."

"Where's Mama?" he asked.

"She's gone back to her home," the Templar said.

At least they hadn't realised Mama was a mage as well.

He ached inside, though. He knew he hadn't got all of the growth. It would start to grow again without him there to stop it. Mama would get sicker. Then she would die.

He had to escape.

* * *

Irving stood in the doorway of the library, Wynne next to him. He'd been in Denerim when the apprentice was brought here, so this was the first time he'd seen the boy.

"Fourteen you say?" he said to the woman next to him. She was showing her age more, he thought regretfully. The grey hair was turning to white. There were so few of them, now, who had been young together.

"Fifteen actually. He's a magnificent healer. I sometimes think it's more than just natural talent.."

"You think someone else has taught him before you?"

She nodded, looking worried. "It would explain why he went so long without detection."

"Well, it's not unheard of," Irving said. "He wouldn't be the first to be trained to hide his talents. He might be the first to be trained to use them, however."

He studied the boy's face for a moment. He was leaning back in his chair, a sardonic smirk on his face as he studied the teacher. The class was full of students much younger than he and Irving could tell he was bored. The blond head turned, as though he sensed he was being watched, and Irving almost gasped as the hazel eyes fixed themselves on him. The boy had a look about him - it was so achingly familiar...

He couldn't place where he'd seen it before.

Anders raised an eyebrow at the two of them before sitting a little straighter in his chair and facing the front of the room again.

Irving motioned to Wynne that they should leave.

"What about his family?" he asked.

"From Highever," she said. "The mother... she died a few months after we took him in. The templars said he was attacking her when they found him. He insists he was trying to heal her."

Irving raised an eyebrow. "What was her name?"

"Joscelyn. Two other children - neither of them are showing any signs of the talent, though from what I understand Anders didn't have the same father."

Irving blinked. "Ah," he said. "Well, it's a shame he didn't have the chance to finish healing her - if that was what he was doing. Does he know about her death?"

Wynne nodded sadly. "The Templars told him. They don't like him much. He's already giving them lip, the poor dear. It's so hard when we get to them late like this."

Irving stroked his beard, thinking again of that hazel gaze. "Keep an eye on him for me Wynne? I don't want you to take him as an apprentice... we'll let one of the primal mages do that since his healing skills are already so good, but..."

His friend touched his arm and smiled, her blue eyes kind and gentle. "Yes, First Enchanter."

That evening, Irving studied his face in the mirror. There were more lines every day - his beard and hair had finally turned completely grey and his hazel eyes were sinking under his brows so they were permanently in shadow. Their colour was fading in any case.

The resemblance would never be noticed.


End file.
